


The Bet

by fullmetalscully, Tasia (ruikosakuragi), waddiwasiwitch



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Baby Names, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetalscully/pseuds/fullmetalscully, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruikosakuragi/pseuds/Tasia, https://archiveofourown.org/users/waddiwasiwitch/pseuds/waddiwasiwitch
Summary: Riza and Roy are expecting, however creative differences leave them stuck on a name. The choices are... questionable. The members of Team Mustang are sure they know the winning name and they're willing to put their money on it. All bets are on!





	The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Royai Week, Day 4, Picture Prompt.
> 
> This was a collaborative effort with fullmetalscully and Tasia (ruikosakuragi). Thanks so much, ladies.
> 
> This was inspired by a conversation on Discord where we speculated on Royai baby names! We really hope you enjoy this because we had an absolute blast writing it!

**The Bet**

Riza was never comfortable being the person in the limelight. She preferred to let Roy take centre stage while she watched his back. Today she didn’t have a choice; she was guest of honour at her baby shower. She put her hands protectively around her growing bump. Baby Mustang was proving to be popular. While she was excited about the impending arrival, she was also terrified. She, Riza Mustang, was going to be a mother. A mother?

Her backyard had never been this lively before. While she had always kept her grass green and her rose bushes trimmed, the outdoor space rarely had visitors. Now, her garden roared with laughter and excitement. Pastel pink and blue balloons paraded across the folding chairs. Atop an elongated table, tiers of assorted pastries and sandwiches lined the stretch, thanks to Gracia and her baking skills. Flower arrangements were also done mindfully, with tricolor carnations - Riza’s favorite - bunched up in bouquet vases.

Baby Mustang was _definitely_ popular.

Becca sat on her left and Chris on her right. Both women provided a running commentary on the gifts as she opened them. She paused momentarily as Becca fetched the next gift and looked around her friends.

“No, I’m sure it’s going to be a boy," Gracia was saying, "She’s carrying low.”

Maria shook her head. “No, it’s a girl. I can feel it.”

Riza chuckled and shook her head. It was weird that people were having passionate debates about the baby she was carrying. She and Roy didn’t mind whether it was a boy or girl as long as it was healthy. There was a time when they weren’t even sure if they would be able to have a child. No matter what, the child was going to be loved fiercely.

“So, Riza,” Becca leaned in, eyes gleaming in mischief, “tell me, everyone is dying to know if you have a name picked.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t been able to get much information from Roy-boy, which is strange. He is rather fond of his own voice after all.”

They both looked expectantly at Riza and her shoulders dropped.

"We can't agree on a name," she said.

“Why is that?” Becca asked with great curiosity.

Clearing her throat, Riza said, “I think Roy’s name choices are… questionable.”

Someone behind her chimed in. “Such as?”

When Riza turned around, she saw Sheska carrying a pitcher of lemonade. The bespectacled woman poured some into her cup, filling it to the brim.

Taking a gulp, she continued. “Well for one, he suggested Archibald if it’s a boy.”

There was a collective shudder.

Rebecca snorted. “Figures.”

Riza scrunched up her nose. “It gets worse, Reginald or Horace. If we were having twins, he said he wanted to name them Arthur and Guinevere. Actually, those are his _favorites_.”

Chris chuckled and patted Riza’s arm. “That boy reads too many books.”

“Well, it’s not just that,” Sheska put in, “I mean, according to legend, they were a married couple weren’t they?”

Riza tightened her hand on her glass and took a sip of lemonade.

Maria cleared her throat loudly. “What about other names for girls?”

“Gwendoline,” Riza said, a bitter taste in her mouth and it wasn’t just the lemonade. “What century does he think he’s in?”

“You know what I think,” Rebecca waggled a finger. “You do the pushing, so you get to name the baby. That’s what I told, Jean, and in Mr Matchstick’s case, it’s essential.”

Gracia cut in. “Well, Maes and I had difficulty coming up with a name we both liked. I’m sure you’ll set your eyes on that baby and you’ll know the perfect name right away.”

Winry nodded, a reassuring smile on her face. “If Ed and I can come to an agreement, then you two can.”

“And those two had shouting matches about it,” Izumi came up beside Winry and clapped her on the back. “Mei and Alphonse told me all about it.”

The young woman’s face glowed. “I don’t know if you would call them shouting matches.”

“I hope you’re right,” Riza said. “We can’t call it Baby Mustang forever.” She took another sip from her glass. “You know the other day, he actually suggested Christine.” She rolled her eyes. “The poor kid would get called all sorts. Tina, or Chrissy or-”

Gracia coughed. The blonde’s eyes widened as she remembered exactly who was sitting next to her.

Chris lifted an eyebrow. “- Or Chris?”

Cheeks burning, Riza clapped her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry - I”

“Never mind.” The older woman tapped her leg and guffawed. She wiped her eyes. “I’m actually crying.”

The other girls started to laugh, even Riza’s lips twitched. Once the mirth faded to a companionable silence, Rebecca flicked Riza a prodding stare. There was a strange glaze to her eyes, and whether it was curiosity or something else, Riza couldn't tell.

The brunette finally said, “If _you_ had to name the baby, what would it be?”

With thin eyes, Riza hedged, “Do you really want to know, Rebecca? Why do I sense there’s a reason you’re asking this question?”

“I'm _genuinely_ curious, Riza,” Rebecca replied, and she flashed Riza her most innocent smile.

“If you really want to know,” Riza began, a smile curling on her lips, “I love the name Blue Belle or Red Rose for a girl. I think they are unique and wonderful. No one has ever named their baby by those names.” And she truly meant it.

The group of women went quiet. Rebecca’s smile fell as her mouth opened into a soft “oh.” Shifting slightly, Riza looked at her friends, her forehead furrowed. Her companions’ reaction was not as positive as she had hoped it would be. Maria was wearing a slack-jawed expression while beside her Sheska and Winry had forced smiles on their faces. Even Gracia had her hand to her mouth and, to her annoyance, she thought she saw a smile. Only Chris’ face was unreadable.

“What’s wrong with wanting your child to have a unique name?” She traced his fingers over her growing baby. She lifted her chin. “I think those names are beautiful.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting unusual names… within reason,” Chris conceded and Riza’s gaze turned to meet hers. The older woman leaned in closer to Riza and lowered her voice so that only she could hear, “Forgive me, Riza, but those names sound more suitable for a racehorse rather than a child.” She patted the younger woman’s arm and clucked her tongue. “Not that Roy-boy is any better, his choices sound like he’s a fifteen-year-old obsessed with the Knights of the Round Table.”

Gracia cleared her throat loudly. “Um, very unique names, Riza. Any other suggestions?”

“White Winchester. Wendy for short,” she began, and she gauged for their reaction. When no one said anything, she added, “I mean, I did think of Dew Drop the other day... Just to stray a bit from the list of colors. I think it’s nice….”

Silence.

Only the birds seemed to acknowledge Riza’s choices in name. 

Bringing herself to sit upright, Winry smiled. A weak smile. “Okay. What about boys? Let’s hear it.”

Doubt had seeped in, and Riza admitted to feeling a little self-conscious now. But she decided to tell the group anyway. There was no reason to be embarrassed of her creativity. “For boys, Hunter Hawk - or just Hawk - and Silver Bullet.”

Beside her, Rebecca lunged a hard cough, as though she choked on the cupcake she had been nibbling on. Gracia rubbed the brunette’s back, attempting to soothe her throat.

At the same time, Sheska accidentally knocked over her cup of lemonade, creating an impromptu commotion. Everyone sprang up abruptly.

“Oh, I am so sorry, Miss Izumi! Did I splash you?” Sheska gasped.

Swiftly, Izumi snatched the floral napkins from the table, dabbing the spilled liquid. “Don’t worry, Sheska. You didn’t get me.”

Each of the women, Riza included, grabbed from the pile of napkins and helped just the same. Chris elicited a small laugh while patting the table dry, “No. Riza got you all.”

The rest of the women caught Chris’s teasing and began to laugh. Feebly at first, until Rebecca doubled over and bellowed an obnoxious one. Riza could feel heat creep up her cheeks, and she was certain it wasn’t from the summer sun beating down on them.

With a comforting smile, Gracia remarked, “Don’t be embarrassed, Riza. We were just teasing because we love you.” Gracia must have noticed the scarlet on her face, Riza thought.

Across the table, Winry said with a placating tone, “Yeah, Riza. I’m sure you will know what to name the baby when he or she is finally out.”

“Yeah. Don’t fret, Riza. You’ll think of a name eventually,” Maria appeased, a gentle tap on her arm. 

Everyone nodded, murmuring their agreement.

Riza’s head tilted to one side, the bridge of her nose scrunching up. “But those _are_ the names.”

 “Sorry, we’re being terrible friends, aren’t we?” Rebecca squeezed her free hand. “So which of the _names_ are you leaning toward?”

 

\-----

 

Wednesdays were usually the least interesting day of the week. It didn’t carry a madness like Monday mornings, but it kept the men of Team Mustang just busy enough until the sun disappeared beyond the window.

Climbing one of the wooden chairs, Rebecca tossed her arms up into the air and clapped loudly, calling on the men. She hollered, “Gather ‘round, boys!”

Today, however, seemed to start exceptionally well. The grey drab of the office seemed to glow brighter than normal. And it didn’t bother First Lieutenant Jean Havoc in the slightest when Second Lieutenant Vato Falman carefully slid another stack of paperwork towards him. His pen would happily oblige, scratching across another insignificant case of a missing dog, or a missing swan.

But for now, Jean tilted his head up to the beautiful First Lieutenant who had never failed to turn his legs to jello and jogged his heart rate to the speed of lightning. He gave her his full attention.

A cigarette dangling limply between his lips, he shot her a provocative smirk. “What’s up, Becs?”

Once everyone gathered around, Rebecca said, in a voice quieter than normal, “I’ve got some intel on Roy and Riza’s baby’s name.” Pointing to Havoc, she commanded, ”Start a betting pool, Jean, and I want in on it, too.”

“You got it.” Collecting a pen and paper, Jean looked back up at her, “What are the names?” 

“Get this. Riza was pretty adamant calling her baby girl Dew Drop. If it’s a boy, it would be Hawk. And as for Roy, she said he was pretty set on calling him Arthur, and Guinevere if it’s a girl.”

Jean felt his lungs coil tightly before all the air eventually escaped from it faster than a cheetah, leaving him gasping. He should really quit smoking, he thought. 

He pulled in a breath so quickly he wound up coughing. Ferociously. “Wh-what? Are those names for real or are you shitting me?”

Rebecca shook her head. “I’m definitely not shitting you. Riza spelled them loud and clear.”

The cigarette must have fallen out somewhere because his mouth felt dry and empty all of a sudden. He looked around. He saw Fuery’s crestfallen face. Breda’s mouth hung open, and Jean could trace the bits and pieces of the French baguette all along his lips. Falman just looked expressionless as always.

Jean stared at her. “Hawk and Dew Drop, really? Is that supposed to be a homage to Pocahontas or an insult? And Arthur and Guinevere? Was his dream to become a knight of the Round Table or what?” 

But she had, indeed, been serious.

Rebecca looked at each of the men. “So are you with me?”

Jean smirked around his cigarette and winked. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Yesh-” Breda choked on his baguette and coughed before clarifying, “Count me in.”

Falman nodded his assent but Fuery shuffled his feet.

“Oh, I don’t know.” The bespectacled man’s eyes were wide behind his glasses. “Won’t they be angry if they find out?”

“They won’t find out,” Becca waggled a perfectly manicured finger, “unless we tell them.”

Jean summoned his most foreboding scowl. “And you won’t tell them, will you?” 

The younger man let out a squeak and jumped backward.

Breda stood up. “Who cares? They will be all loved up once they meet that baby and we’ll be forgiven. No matter how angry Riza is, she won’t let Mustang set us on fire.”

Fuery gulped. “I wasn’t thinking about flame alchemy, I was thinking about guns.” 

They all shuddered.

Jean rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, Falman, uh-” He shoved the paper into the other man’s hands. “You can run the pool. You’re good at that sort of thing.”

Falman raised an eyebrow. “None of those names sound very likely.” He eyed Rebecca. “Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

She drew her eyebrows together. “I already told you. Ask any of the girls. They’ll tell you exactly what Riza said.” She crossed her arms as he started scribbling. “Do you want me to call out those names again?”

The Second Lieutenant shook his head. “I have an excellent memory.” He held up the paper where he had faithfully written each of the names Rebecca had given. Jean could see that Becca was impressed. 

“I have excellent penmanship,” Jean blurted.

“It’s good for writing love letters.” Breda had a mischievous grin on his face, a face that Jean would very much like to punch right now.

“I wouldn’t know,” Rebecca said primly. She jumped down from the chair.

Fuery was paying no attention to the teasing. He was looking around, probably fearful their superiors would turn up any moment.

“Relax, the Boss and Riza have an appointment,” Jean chuckled. “Or maybe they’ve killed each other over the baby name?”

Breda started howling. Less impressed, Falman shook his head and Rebecca shoved Jean in the chest.

“Don’t joke about that!” She glanced at Fuery who was ashen. “Especially not in front of the kid.”

Fuery huffed and crossed his arms. “I am not a kid. You guys aren’t that much older than me!”

Jean smirked. “If you want to show us you’re not a kid, then you can quiz the General about potential baby names.” He wrapped a loose arm around her and was relieved when she didn’t shirk away from him. “We have Becca on the side for Riza, you can be our inside man for the Boss.”

Fuery’s mouth fell open and he groaned.

Rebecca stepped out of Jean’s embrace and stepped closer to Fuery. She tilted the younger man’s chin and seemed to search his face. For what, Jean didn’t know. Blood rushed to his ears.

“You’ve got an innocent face. I think we can work with it.”

Jean narrowed his eyes. Why was she touching the kid? All he knew was that he didn’t like it and he glared at Fuery. Rebecca let go and Jean had to restrain himself from grabbing her and kissing her.

Before he could do anything stupid, Falman spoke up, “That plan is terrible, it has a 95% chance of failure.”

Her lip twitched adorably. Jean wanted to nibble her lower lip, to feel her sigh against him, to-

“Jean, are you alright?” She waved a hand in front of his face. “Your eyes look glazed over.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again. “Uh - fine. Just thinking, Becs.”

“Aw, did it hurt?”

“Fuck you, Becs.” There was no real heat in his words or at least not that kind of heat.

She whipped around, her hair flying, and looked at him coquettishly. “You wish.”

Yeah, he really did wish. His mouth went dry. Breda coughed drawing their attention.

He rolled his eyes. “Can you two just go find a closet to make out in or something? 

Jean felt the blood rushing to his face. He dared cast a look at Becca, whose cheeks were a fetching pink.

“Come on, we need to get to naming that baby.” The redhead rubbed his hands together. “Falman, I have to go with Mustang here for the sake of his kid. No way, is he going to allow her to give a dog’s name to their kid-” He stopped suddenly, staring at something over Jean’s shoulder.

Fuery’s wide eyes and yelp made Jean even more nervous. He turned around slowly and came face to face to a grinning Fuhrer Grumman.

“Are you making a wager on the baby’s name?” The Fuhrer’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Are you doing this without their knowledge?” 

Jean took a step backward. “Um-”

Grumman chuckled. “I’m just joshing you kids.”

They all laughed nervously.

The Fuhrer set his eyes on Falman. “You-you're the one taking the bets. I’m going to have to side with my granddaughter. It would be improper not to.” He chuckled. “I could make it an official decree to bring Roy in line.”

“I don’t think you really want that,” Havoc muttered. “Not really.”

“What’s that, boy, speak up!” 

Becca clucked her tongue. “Sir, he thinks that her name choices are ridiculous.” She sighed and crossed her arms.

Grumman’s smiled widened. “Is that so?”

“While her choices are questionable,” Becca spoke carefully, “I think Riza has earned the right to name the child given she’s the one doing all the work.”

“But he has to put up with her mood swings,” Fuery blurted. His hand went to his open mouth immediately. 

Jean ran his finger along his jaw. “Do you think it could be baby brain? Isn’t that like a medical diagnosis where women act all-” Becca glared at him and he gulped.

The Fuhrer walked over to Falman who nodded dumbly as the older man took the page from him. His eyebrows went up as he read through the names.

“Oh, dear,” he muttered. Then a minute later, he added, “Never in my life have I had to make such a difficult choice. Now I just need to figure out how to break it to my granddaughter that I’m siding with her husband.” 

“Just so you know, sir, the odds are Captain Mustang will win. I’ve been keeping tabs on their arguments for the past ten years, and she almost always wins,” Falman said. “Are you sure you want to put your money down for the General?” 

The Fuhrer sauntered over and clapped a hand on the grey-haired Lieutenant’s back. When the old man’s teeth beamed white and blinding, Jean knew something was up his sleeves. “Falman, my granddaughter may be headstrong, but if I just drop a little hint about Mustang’s future and how he will play a role in this country, I am sure she will… _listen_.”

With his hands clasped behind his back, Fuhrer Grumman cackled out of the office and slammed the door behind him.

The breathtaking silence was only for a moment. Within seconds of the Fuhrer’s departure, everyone in the room was back to bickering and contention. 

“What the hell! He just turned the odds! How is that fair?” Rebecca shouted, a deep crinkle between her brows. If Jean had never seen her so mad about something, then he had now. “Forget Riza and pushing babies, I want my money! Falman, put me down for Mustang, and here, take my five hundred cenz!” She threw her money down on the table, which Falman quickly collected into a jar. 

“Well shit, if that’s the case I’m also putting my money on the General,” Jean said, reaching into his pocket and plucking out a bill.

“I will stick with Captain Mustang,” Fuery mumbled, almost to himself than to anyone else. “I still think Hawk and Dew Drop have a chance to win, as absurd as they may sound.”

Ruffling Fuery’s spiky hair, Breda grinned, “Aww, I know Riza is like an older sister to you, but you must be naive to think that she will win.” Then the redhead lieutenant turned to Falman with a stack of coins in his hand. “Put me down for King Arthur and Queen Guinevere.”

 

\-----

 

Pacing around hadn’t helped. Sitting down was even worse.

As Roy gawked beyond the small square window of the delivery room door, moist hands clutching a set of blue scrub, he saw agony twisting up his wife’s face. Her knees were propped up, bottom half covered in long cloth, and he could see the trail of sweat running down her forehead and temples.

The midwife stood in front of Riza, seemingly preparing or arranging something on a silver, surgical tray. She then mumbled something behind her mouth mask, ordering a couple of nurses to dash back-and-forth, grabbing medical tools and laying them out on the same tray.

Did he want to be there beside her? Comforting her when she needed him most? Of course, he did. He couldn’t stand seeing Riza in pain. Ever. But a part of him was afraid he might pass out just the same. It wasn’t the amount of blood that would do him in, it was the prospect of a little life coming out of another life and how it would change _their_ life…

Plus, Riza had told him he could stay in the hallway while she was in there pushing _their_ baby out… Kind of.

Roy Mustang was indeed intelligent. He could solve the most complex alchemical formula, decipher codes and translate ancient Xerxesian words into coherent sentences. But the idea of a baby was something he couldn’t wrap his mind around. He was excited beyond belief, but he was also scared to the point where his skull would throb every time he thought about it.

_“Get your ass in here now, Roy Mustang! You put this little shit in me!”_

Peeking in between the slit of the double door, Roy stammered, “I-I’m coming, love! I just- I just need to put this gown on…”

He started scrambling with the fabric in his hand, unfolding it with twitching fingers and perspiring palms. _Oh God, oh God._

_“Well, hurry the fuck up! It’s starting!”_

“Holy shit, Boss. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Riza curse so much in thirty seconds,” Jean said with an amused tone.

Rebecca chimed in, “Well, better get your ass in there, Mustang. You heard the lady.”

“Right… Okay.” Roy reached for the door handle, his hand coming to rest atop it for a moment. His child was being born _right now_ in that room.

He was going to be a father.

“ _Roy!_ ” Riza shouted. The command in her voice and the emotion that soared in his chest at the prospect of him becoming a father to a tiny ball of pink mush had him tearing the door open in his haste.

“I’m coming!”

 

\----------

 

Roy pushed the door open and staggered from the delivery room; his feet were unsteady as he navigated the corridor.

 _Twins?_ _One baby was going to be difficult enough but two?_

He could picture it now - two unrestrained terrors running amok in their home, giggling and shouting to each other in some secret game meant to torment and worry their father. 

He couldn't wait. It would be two against two, a level playing field, but Roy was interested to see how this would play out for them both. It would certainly keep himself and Riza on their toes.

Twins...

He was two times a father. A rush of giddiness hit him as he entered the waiting area and he felt lightheaded. 

“Roy?” His watery eyes caught Chris’ as she stood up. 

The whole team was here and Rebecca of course. A little old woman with an enormous straw hat adorned with flowers watched from a steel chair in the corner. There was something familiar about her but he couldn’t see her face. They all, including the woman, stared at him expectantly.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell us?” his aunt demanded.

“Yes, so do I need to buy a pink or blue blanket?” the little old lady squeaked.

Roy blinked. _Ah._ He was less surprised by the Fuhrer’s choice of disguise than he should have been. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. 

Chris snorted. “Looks like he has lost the power of his voice.” She came up beside him and squeezed his shoulders. “Take a breath, Roy-boy.”

“For goodness sake, is it a boy or a girl?” Rebecca asked, not bothering to hide her impatience.

“And what’s the name?” Havoc had a hand behind his back.

Roy swallowed hard and tried again. “Twins,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Riza had twins!”

“Two babies?” Rebecca shook her head.

“That’s what twins mean,” Falman added helpfully.

Rebecca whipped around and glared at Falman. “I know what twins mean.” She turned back to Roy, “Have you decided on names?” Why she was so desperate to know the names, Roy wasn't sure. But there was something up with Rebecca, he thought briefly. It was a fleeting thought though because he still couldn't get over the fact that -

They all tensed up waiting, but Roy shook his head. Instead, he murmured, “I’m a father… I’m a father!” He still couldn't wrap his head around it.

To  _twins_ no less!

Breda rolled his eyes. “Go back to your wife. You look like you are about to keel over.” He bumped Fuery’s shoulder. “You’d swear he was the one that gave birth.”

 

\----------  

 

The new parents were settled in Riza’s private room. Roy held his daughter in his arms, marvelling at her little arms and toes. She was perfection, a matching set with her brother. He sat on the edge of the bed, where an exhausted but exhilarated Riza was cradling their son.

“Look at them,” he said in wonder. “We made them. Wow!”

He heard the familiar grating laugh of Rebecca Catalina outside the door. With a roll of his eyes, he went to the door to show them the newest members of Team Mustang. He chuckled to himself. He felt drunk on happiness. He stopped short when he heard Breda’s voice.

“It will be Arthur and Guinevere for sure.” There was a muffled thump as Breda continued,  “Say goodbye to your money, Fuery, there’s no way Riza’s names are going to fly.”

Roy’s mouth fell open. Were they seriously betting on what they would name the baby? Of course, they were. Now, all those strange conversations made sense. His eyes narrowed.

He remembered Grumman patting him on the back and saying, “Sometimes you have to put your foot down. The name you give a baby lasts them a lifetime.” The Fuhrer had winked then.

And Fuery. The kid had asked him about baby names, blushing and fidgeting all the while.

They were all in on it.

“Roy, what are you doing just standing there?”

He turned back to his wife.

“Riza, I think our friends and your grandfather have a betting pool on our precious babies.”

There was a pause as she stared blankly, then an amused chuckle, “Now it makes sense why Rebecca said what she said.”

Sitting on the bed beside her, Roy asked, “What did she say?”

“A few things. But some of them were: Did you know King Arthur’s nickname was ‘The One True King’? Did you know he was _also_ a great warrior and venerated as a saint in several countries? Oh, and did you know Guinevere was so beautiful she was abducted a few times as a child so her captors could marry her?”

He laughed. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

“But this is Rebecca we’re talking about. She _doesn’t_ read, especially if said book is folk tales and mythology. I _knew_ she was up to something.” Then the bridge of her nose crinkled with a realization. "Wait. That means she prefers the names you chose... over mine?"

With an appeasing smile, he said, "That doesn't mean anything, Riza. There must be a reason why she prefers _those_ names. But I can tell you right now that none of them will be very happy with us."

Her eyes softened, and she smiled as she met his gaze, “So... you’re okay with the names we talked about then?” 

Gently, he planted a kiss on her forehead. “Of course. I think they’re perfect.”

"Do you fancy having a little fun first?" Riza asked, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Roy grinned, amused. "What do you have in mind?"

Oh yes, this would teach them to bet against them both.

 

\----------

 

Perhaps it was her relationship to the Fuhrer. Or perhaps it was because her husband was a bigwig in the Amestrian military. Riza Mustang was forever grateful for the large, private room with a plush bed befitting of a 5-star hotel that could hold the entire Team Mustang plus more in the same space. With everyone chatting and laughing, and just simply being _present_ to welcome their bundles of joy truly felt like a celebration.

If she'd been told in childhood that this was the path her life would take, that she would be so loved and would find a family of her own through her co-workers, she would have laughed in disbelief. But here they all were, excited to welcome the two new additions to their lives.

From the door, Riza heard a knock. 

“So, have you decided on a name yet for Babies Mustang?” the nurse asked cheerily, finishing up her checks of the infants. Roy and Riza just shared a look, which left the nurse chuckling to herself. “You don’t have to decide right now. Girl Mustang and Boy Mustang have a nice ring to it!” 

Approaching her bedside, Rebecca said, “Have you guys decided their names?” As she said this, the entire room became mute, as though Rebecca had spoken the magic word, stealing each of their voices. “So? How about it?”

Riza turned to look at Roy. 

 _Again with the pushing,_ Roy thought. It made sense now, after hearing they'd been betting on the names. 

“We have,” Riza nodded, smiling. She turned again to look at her husband. “Roy, would you like to announce their names?”

"Yeah…" He trailed off, looking down at the little girl in his arms. He smiled to himself, hearing an " _aw_ " from someone in the room as he gazed at his daughter. Little did they know it was for the upcoming mischief (but he did find that he gazed at his daughter a lot. Who could blame him?).

"Everyone," he announced, taking a deep breath and trying to control his smirk. "Meet Nil," he announced, showing off his daughter. He almost burst out laughing at their confused faces but managed to hold it in. "And Riza is holding Darth."

The room was silent.

"Please tell me you're joking," Chris said weakly.

"Are you fucking serious?" Havoc cried.

"Don't curse in front of the children, Jean!" Rebecca hissed, slapping his arm.

Breda just stood with a parted mouth, while Fuery and Falman shared a confused look.

Unable to hold it in anymore, Roy burst out laughing at their faces. They all visibly relaxed.

“C’mon then, Roy, spit it out,” Chris demanded.  

Roy chuckled. “Well, this beautiful princess is Emily Mustang, Emily after Riza’s mom. And the little prince is Thomas Mustang.” He looked over at his aunt, whose eyes were suspiciously bright.

“After your father,” Chris added. She coughed. “Well, those… those are good names.”

“They’re _normal_ names?” Havoc shook his head. “Oh, man.”

Riza raised an eyebrow. “There’s no need to sound so surprised.”

“Did you really think we were _that bad_ at names?" Roy asked.

"Well… Yes," was the collective answer.

"The kids have got to live with it for the rest of their lives. We're not mean," he pouted. Throwing a pleased smirk around the room, Roy said, “So who came up with this bet idea and how much money are we talking about?”

The look of horror on their faces earned a deep chuckle from Riza. That in itself made their play-acting all the more worthwhile.

Immediately, Rebecca and the rest of Team Mustang were scrambling for an answer, putting the blame on each other. There was a loud groan, a playful slap, and a lot of head-scratching.

As Roy contemplated on the day, breathing in and letting a stream of emotions rush through, he realized that today was a day he’d never forget. Today was momentous. Today was a miracle.

He sat on the bed beside Riza again and looked at the faces of their newborn twins. He smiled. The biggest smile he’d ever donned. Things don’t get any better than this.

 

**The end**

**Author's Note:**

> We would love to know what you think.


End file.
